


It's All in the Subtext

by benedictedcumberbatched



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/pseuds/benedictedcumberbatched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewriting of the hallway scene in The Empty Hearse</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All in the Subtext

**Author's Note:**

  * For [floosilver8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/floosilver8/gifts).



> As always, nothing belongs to me. Sadly.

Molly descended the stairs, her giggle from a moment before dying on her lips as her thoughts turned to the past few hours. “Sherlock…”

Sherlock hums, inviting her to continue talking. “What was today about?” she asked, halfway down the stairs and slowing her steps as he turns to look at her.

“Saying thank you,” he says. Such foreign words on the lips of Sherlock Holmes. Molly pauses, slowing her steps even more.

“For what?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“For everything you did for me.”

“It’s okay. It was my pleasure,” she replies as she squeezes past him. He watches her as she passes by, his gaze lowered slightly.

“No, I mean it,” he said. She stopped and turned.

“I don’t mean pleasure, I mean I didn’t mind. I wanted to,” she recovered, giving Sherlock a small smile.

“Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake,” Sherlock began quickly, turning to face her completely. “Because the one person he thought didn’t matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most. You made it all possible,” he finished, emphasizing the ‘you.’ Sherlock glances down before taking a deep breath. “But you can’t do this again can you.”

It wasn’t a question. Molly looked at him, her expression indistinguishable. “I had a lovely day. I’d love to, I just…” she trailed off, her eyes downcast to her left hand where her right was fidgeting with her ring.

“Congratulations by the way,” he says, nodding to her hand. Molly smiles tensely. Sherlock sees. He always sees. He sees her just as she sees him. His gut is urging him forward, to tell her what should have told her two years ago.

“He’s not from work,” she says slowly. He smiles sadly; she doesn’t see this time. What had she said to him two years before, that he looks sad when he thinks people can’t see? How interesting that the one who could see him doesn’t see him this time. “We met through friends. Old-fashioned way. He’s nice, we…he’s got a dog, we go to the pub on weekends, and I’ve met his mum and dad and his friends and all his family. I have no idea why I’m telling you this…” she rambles, fidgeting as she explains. Sherlock straightens his back, folding his hands behind him. His guard, his ever so protective guard, is back.

“I hope you’ll be very happy, Molly Hooper. You deserve it,” he says. They stared at each other for a moment. “After all, not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths,” he states.

Molly’s lips parted. She knew. She knew he wasn’t one, no matter what he or others said. She had seen him at his most vulnerable, and she could see through him now. “No?” she murmurs.

“No,” he replies firmly.

His eyes speak volumes as he takes a step toward her. His features, normally so focused, so hard, were soft. Molly inhales and holds her breath as he gives her a sad smile. Her heart clenches at the look on his face. Her eyes close as she feels the press of his lips to her cheek, so close to the edge of her lips. A simple turn of her head, that is all it would take.

But before she had the chance, he pulled away. Molly’s eyes opened as he opened the door. Her voice was quiet as she looked up and over at the door. “Maybe it’s just my type,” she said.

Molly’s eyes grew wide as she saw him pause on his way out the door. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice soft as he closed the door and returned.

“Maybe it’s just my type,” she replied meekly, giving him a fleeting smile.

Sherlock hesitated as he reached up and cupped the side of her face. Molly’s eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head into his touch. There was the fiancée to contend with of course but he could not make this mistake again. He leaned forward slightly and felt as if all the air had been knocked from his lungs as his lips met Molly’s. He smirked slightly as she squeaked her shock but her hands went straight to the lapels of his Belstaff and pulled him toward her eagerly. He maneuvered her slightly, pushing her back against the wall as he deepened the kiss. He failed to swallow the groan that forced itself from his throat as her hands tangled into his hair.

Sherlock kept his eyes closed as he drew back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m sorry, Molly. Your fiancée…” he trailed off, making to pull back and distance himself. Molly tightened her grip on him.

“No, don’t. Don’t ruin this,” she replied with a force he wasn’t familiar with from her. His eyes opened and he pulled back enough to look down at her comfortably. “Why?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

“I…mmm…I could not allow this to pass me by again. I should have said something two years ago when I came to you for help. You help me and do things for me even when I’m horrible to you and when I don’t deserve it. Your unwavering faith in me, I don’t want to lose that. I…” he said trailing off, looking down and pressing his lips together. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to her warm brown ones. “I don’t want to lose you, not because I need you in the morgue, but because I need you.”

Molly felt herself sag slightly with relief, her eyes closed and a smile spread across her face. “There is still my fiancée to consider. I do love him, Sherlock, but I do love you too. Can you…can you give me time to figure it out?” she asked, her eyes searching his. It was a lot to consider. This day had been wonderful and she had enjoyed working the field with Sherlock, but it felt like a date and while she had no qualms with that, she did have Tom to consider.

Sherlock stepped back from her and nodded. “I can,” he replied, his voice thick. He drew himself back up to his full height, leaned forward slightly to kiss her once more, his hand bracing against her waist. “I can’t convince you to join me for chips still, can I?” he asked with a smirk.

Molly laughed and looked toward the door. She bit her lip before looking back up at Sherlock. “I suppose chips couldn’t hurt,” she replied, looping her arm through his.


End file.
